Jump! to Conclusions
by MildlyInsane
Summary: While undercover as Tommy McQuaid, Tom Hanson gets into an argument with his PE teacher. After seeing bruises Tom has from another case, the teacher suspects Tom's been abused and refers him to a counselor. Doug Penhall also makes an appearance.
1. Chapter 1

_**Description: While undercover as Tommy McQuaid, Tom Hanson gets into an argument with his PE teacher. After seeing bruises Tom has from another case, the teacher suspects Tom's been abused and refers him to a counselor. Doug Penhall also makes an appearance.  
**_

_**This was originally going to be a one-shot, but it seems it will actually end up being 2 or 3 chapters... Penhall is going to be in the second or third... So if you love him, do not fret. He'll be here. Also, the case Tom and Doug are working on is not going to be solved in this story. It's just there to give them a reason for being at school and isn't really relevant to the plot of this story.**_

_**xxxxxx  
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Tom hated being enrolled in PE classes while he was undercover. In fact, he always hated being enrolled in PE classes, even back when he was a teenager and was actually enrolled in classes under his own name. But being in a gym class was now even worse than ever. Now that he was older than the student population, he always thought it was a little creepy for him to be undressing or showering with the other kids. Sure, the age gap wasn't that big, but it still seemed wrong to him. Even having the PE teacher down in the locker room with them always felt wrong.

"Hit the showers, boys," Mr. Swanson ordered as the game of volleyball came to an end.

This was Tom's first day at this school. He and Penhall had been sent undercover together under their usual disguise as the McQuaid brothers. But Doug wasn't in Tom's PE class, so he was on his own. He hoped he could just get dressed quickly and get out of there. Some teachers tried to force kids to shower. He didn't know yet if Swanson was one of them.

Tom was one of the first of the students to make his way down to the locker room. He swung his locker open, pulled his t-shirt off and stuffed it inside the locker. He still wore a long-sleeved undershirt, because he had bruises on his stomach and upper arms from a particularly rough case he was on last week. Having students and teachers question him about that wasn't something he was eager for, so he kept them hidden.

As he traded his gym shorts for his jeans, he looked up at the boy whose locker was next to his. Remembering he had a job to do, he decided to try striking up a conversation. This kid was a person of interest in their case. His name was Parker Hamilton. Hanson didn't know if he was the criminal or a witness, but he had a strong feeling the kid at least had information he wasn't coming out with. There was a reason Tom had chosen a locker next to this boy.

"Nice spike back there," Tom lightly punched the boy's arm, "that fat kid didn't know what hit him."

Parker laughed, "Ricky should be forced to sit out every day. Or at least be put into retard PE or somethin. His team has never won anything. I was on his team yesterday... Fuckin' worthless... He doesn't do anything when the ball's coming for him, and when it's coming for someone else, he goes for it, misses, and just gets in the way."

Tom laughed. He thought that was kind of cruel. Ricky was probably trying his best... But he had a part to play here, "they should ship people like that to a different school," Tom forced a grin, "It'll get them out of our way, and then maybe they have have the most dull game of volleyball ever, where they all just stand around and trip over each other."

"Yeah," Parker grinned as well, "I might actually go to one of their games. It would be hilarious."

Tom nodded. He seemed to be doing something right. The boy hadn't told him to buzz off yet. So far so good...

"Hey," the kid clapped Tom on the shoulder, "what class you got after this?"

Tom hesitated. He didn't remember, "hold on," he dug through his books and found a sheet of paper with his schedule written on it, "Algebra II."

Parker frowned, "then what?"

Hanson looked back at the paper, "English III," he looked back up at Parker, "and then home."

"English with Mrs. Hampton?" Parker looked excited.

Tom grinned, "yeah!"

"Awesome," Parker clapped Tom's shoulder again, "See you there."

Tom nodded and waved as Parker slammed his locker door and walked off toward the showers. Hanson was surprised how easy it was to make false friends with someone he would have never been friends with in reality. Even making friends with people he liked didn't come that easy.

He reached into his locker and grabbed his flannel shirt. Before he could put it on, however, he saw Mr. Swanson walking down the row of lockers, right toward him.

"Hey," Tom greeted him nervously. He could already tell the guy was a bit of a bully just by how he acted during class. He had insisted on playing the game along with the students and was not at all a good sport about it. He cheated for his own team and made fun of the students when they messed anything up.

Mr. Swanson ruffled Tom's hair, causing Tom to flinch back. He wasn't sure what to say though, so he just stood and stared at the man.

"Your hair dries awful fast," Mr. Swanson raised his eyebrow.

"Yeah," Tom lied, "it does," he threw his flannel shirt on top of his stack of books, picked up the stack, and prepared to leave. The only way out was to go right past the bulky gym teacher, but that was easier said than done.

"No you don't," Mr. Swanson slammed his hand into the row of lockers, leaving his large arm right in Tom's way, "everybody showers after PE. Maybe they didn't make you at your old school, but that's the rules here."

Tom exhaled loudly. He hated teachers like this. He had one when he was in high school. Tom looked up at the teacher, putting on his best defiant expression, "No," refused, "I've only got two class periods left, and if people think I stink, they can just deal with it."

Mr. Swanson laughed, "won't be making many friends if everyone thinks you smell like sweat." The man kept his arm in place, blocking Tom's exit.

"That's my problem, not yours," Tom ducked down below the teacher's muscular arm, but was grabbed by the wrist before he could get out of the man's reach.

As soon as the teacher grabbed him, Tom felt fury bubble up inside him. Teachers were not allowed to physically grab their students. And even if they were, Tom was not one to allow people to try to force him to do things he didn't want to do.

Mr. Swanson didn't even have to forcibly turn Tom back around to face him, because Hanson did that on his own. He slammed his books down as hard as he could, pulled his arm out of the man's grasp, and got right up in his face.

"What's your problem, man?" Tom yelled, "you can't make your students shower... I don't even know why the hell you'd want to."

"And I don't know why you're being so stubborn!" the teacher yelled back, reaching for Tom's wrist again, "what, do you cut yourself? Don't want anyone to see?" he pulled up Tom's sleeve, revealing skin that was completely smooth.

Tom immediately pulled it back down and pushed the man away, "even if I did, it would be none of your damn business!" he growled. He could feet his heart racing and could see other kids forming a circle around them. He hoped they'd all report this guy to the principal. If he was treating all of his students like this, he was probably a bigger danger to the student population than any of the other students were.

Hanson felt himself instinctively bringing one of his hands down to the hem of his shirt. The last thing he wanted was for it to rise up (or for Mr. Swanson to pull it up) and reveal actual bruises. He had looked at them in the mirror this morning, and they looked pretty violent and painful still.

"You got somethin to hide?" Mr. Swanson looked down at Tom's hand. Hanson flinched back as the gym teacher reached for him.

"Will you just send me to the principal?" Tom offered, "I'm not showering... I still don't know why you give a fuck, but I'm not doing it. Give me detention if you want. Just tell me the punishment and let's get on with our lives."

He heard a few students cheer him on for that comment. The other students' approval seemed to only make Mr. Swanson more angry.

"What do you have under there?" Swanson grabbed at the shirt again, this time succeeding, "a bad tattoo? Get drunk, did ya? Make a stupid choice? I wouldn't be surprised."

Tom struggled with the man, trying to keep the shirt in place. He wondered if Mr. Swanson could be charged with some sort of sexual assault. This act wasn't exactly sexual, but it certainly wasn't something a teacher should be doing to his student.

As much as Tom didn't want the man to lift his shirt, he was unable to stop it. He knew exactly when the bruises were visible, because immediately he could hear a wave of gasps and whispers from the other students. Some sounded sympathetic, while others seemed more impressed. Maybe this ordeal would get him more respect from his peers. But that's not what he was worried about at the moment.

Hanson pushed the teacher back as far as he could. Mr. Swanson didn't even try to stop him as he pulled his shirt back down and started making his way toward the door. He was so furious that he didn't even bother to stop and pick up his books.

"You know I'm going to have to report that," Mr. Swanson called after him.

Tom stopped in his tracks. He didn't turn to face the man, but instead stared at the floor as he stayed with his back to the teacher and the crowd of students instead, "report what?" he spat.

"Those bruises," Mr. Swanson answered, "I have an obligation to report suspected abuse."

Hanson spun around and stormed toward the man, "It's not abuse! And I'm going to report you too, for assault."

Swanson raised his eyebrows, "I was just concerned about you."

Tom narrowed his eyes. This guy was already setting up his defense, "I'm not stupid. We have twenty witnesses here that'll back me up."

"Or maybe they'll back me up," Mr. Swanson countered, "You don't have to freak out every time someone touches you. Not all human contact is a form of abuse. Just 'cause your daddy hits you-"

Tom didn't even let him finish. At the mention of his father, Tom became beyond furious. He knew his father would never do such a thing and was infuriated that the bulky gym teacher even would suggest it. So Tom lunged at the man, throwing punches at him until they were pulled apart by the other students.

If refusing a shower didn't land him in the principal's office, attacking the teacher certainly would. He just hoped he wouldn't be expelled over it.

_**xxxxxx**_

_**I apologize if anyone is out of character. I've seen a grand total of 7 episodes of this show... In fact I haven't even seen Tom and Doug as the McQuaid brothers yet... I've only read about it...  
**_

**_Please leave me a review. :) _  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Wowza... Thank you all for the reviews... I expected either zero or one person to review. I know I still don't have THAT many, but considering I expected roughly none, I was pretty happy with the number I got... Now that I know people are actually reading this, I feel a little nervous... I hope I don't mess it up..._**

**_Okay then... Here it goes:  
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**_xxxxxx_**

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" the counselor asked in what was likely the most concerned voice she could muster. She was a somewhat chubby woman, seemingly a bit shorter than Tom. She looked nice, but he didn't know her well enough to be sure.

Tom stared back at her. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was slouching in his seat, "No," he frowned, "you've probably already made up your mind about whose story to believe."

"That's where you're wrong, Tommy," she frowned as well. "I generally trust the students I talk to. I don't see why you would attack a gym teacher for no reason. I think either Mr. Swanson was being out of line, or you really did interpret his actions that way. Maybe he didn't mean to scare you like he did. Even if he had good intentions, I don't think you're necessarily completely in the wrong either."

Tom sat up straighter, stomping his feet on the ground to gain more leverage, "Now wait just a minute," he stammered, "he didn't _scare_ me. He just pissed me off! He was trying to force me to take a shower, which I don't even think a gym teacher is _allowed to do_... And then he started grabbing at my shirt making accusations about me cutting myself and my parents abusing me... He just pulled all this out of thin air, just to mess with me."

"_Have_ you ever cut yourself, Tommy?" the counselor wondered.

Hanson scoffed, "No!" he answered, "and he had no reason to think I did. He was just trying to embarrass me in front of everyone else."

"What about your parents?" she asked.

Before she could even clarify, Tom answered, "and no, my parents don't abuse me," he rolled his eyes.

"Okay," she nodded. She didn't seem to believe him, but let the subject go anyway, "I'll be frank with you. We have witnesses on both sides of this. Some say the teacher seemed legitimately concerned for your well-being, and others say he was just trying to get a rise out of you. At this point, it's your word against his, and some students' words against some other students. Either way, the fact that you lunged at him and punched him doesn't help your case. Here's what I can offer: You can take this up with someone higher up, but I'm not sure it would do any good. We can also transfer you to another PE class."

"No," Tom sighed. He couldn't do that. He was in that PE class for a reason. PE was one of the classes where students were most free to converse with one another. He needed to stay in Parker's PE class in order to make pseudo-friends with the boy and further their case. To transfer out of the class would be a near equivalent to throwing the entire case out.

"Don't stay in his class just because you're making friends with people there," the counselor advised, "you're new. You can make more friends easily."

Tom shook his head, "no," he insisted again, "I don't want to switch classes. Can we just agree that I don't have to shower? I only have two classes after PE... And I don't sweat that much."

"We can definitely make that arrangement," she nodded, "I don't know why he's trying to enforce a rule where everyone has to shower, because it's not mandatory. Nothing in the school code states that all students must shower. And after all this, I'm sure he's not going to try to force you to shower again. He's probably fearing for his job at this point."

"Well, he should be," Tom scowled.

"Can you tell me what exactly made you snap?" she asked, "I mean, what did he say or do that caused you to attack him instead of just reporting him?"

Tom shook his head, "I just don't like people saying things about my father. Especially when they don't even know him. It's one thing to mess with me and accuse me of things, to bring my father into it is too much. He can't even defend himself."

"I see," she nodded, "So are you going to press on with this and talk to the higher-ups?" she asked, "because I don't think you can stay in his class if you're making accusations against him at the same time. Again, I'm not saying you're lying. I just don't think it would be wise for you to stay in his class and also try to get him in trouble, or maybe even fired."

Tom sighed heavily and slouched down in the chair again. He put his hands over his face and remained still for a moment.

"Tommy, I'm not trying to make this difficult. I want you to do whatever you think is right. If you really felt threatened by him or feel relatively certain that he was not behaving as a teacher should, it would really be best for you to tell your side of the story. I don't want you to just drop all of this because it's too much hassle."

Shaking his head, Tom kept his hands over his face.

"He shouldn't get away with harassing his students," she pressed, "and like I said, I wasn't there. I only have your story, his, and the other students'. You would know best whether he is really a danger to his students or not."

Tom frowned. He didn't think Mr. Swanson would probably mess with the other boys. After all, none of the others had refused to shower. And he supposed the man hadn't been too far out of line. He got a little grabby, but probably just because Tom had been being difficult from the start. That was the persona he had adopted for this case. He always got into fights with the teachers when he was playing Tommy McQuaid. They were usually just verbal fights, but there had been a few other times when a teacher had gotten so frustrated that they'd grab him or seem like they were an inch away from slapping him.

If Tom decided to press this issue further, he'd waste time he could be using to solve their case, and he would drive himself further away from their main person of interest. Furthermore, once the case was over, Mr. Swanson would probably press charges against Tom for attacking him. At the moment, the man thought Tom was seventeen years old. If Swanson found out Tom was an adult, Hanson might be the one to end up in trouble. Dropping it right now might be the best call.

Sighing again, Tom removed his hands from his face. The counselor was staring at him, and she looked quite concerned, "let's just drop it," Hanson muttered.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yeah," Tom could hear agitation in his own voice, "I'm done talking about this. Let's just pretend none of it happened."

"Okay," the counselor agreed, "but if you decide later that it did happen, you know you can talk to me about it. My door's always open."

Tom forced a very fake-feeling smile. He was certain it looked just as fake as it felt, "Great. Can I go now?" he was already standing up and preparing to leave.

"Not quite yet," she frowned, "we have one more very important matter to discuss."

Tom knew what she was talking about. She was going to ask him where his bruises came from. Unfortunately, he hadn't thought of an excuse for them yet. He couldn't exactly tell her the truth - that a criminal had grabbed him by the arms, slammed him against a wall, and kicked him in the ribs. He couldn't tell her that he was a cop. If he told her, she'd probably tell her best teacher friend, and he or she would tell their son or daughter who was a student, who would tell their friends who would also be students... Word would get around before the end of the school day, which was already nearly over.

Tom threw himself back down into the chair, "Fine," he hissed through his teeth, "just say what you need to say so I can get back to class. My first day here and I'm already skipping class..."

"It's not counted as skipping, Tommy," she smiled slightly, "when you're talking to me, it's an excused absence."

"Well, great," Tom raised his eyebrows and spoke in a voice filled with exaggerated, fake excitement.

"Tommy," the counselor seemed very serious now, "I want you to be completely honest with me. You've got to know that we all want what's best for you. So set aside any pride you have for a moment and answer truthfully."

Hanson sighed. This was ridiculous. She was going to think he was lying (because he was going to be.) and she was going to send social workers to his 'house' to talk to his 'parents.' It would probably result in the entire case being compromised. How far would the police department allow this lie to stretch? Would they find some cops to play his parents? Probably not. He needed to make sure all of these suspicions disappeared today.

"Can you tell me about your bruises?" she asked while he was still trying to think of a reasonable explanation.

He shrugged, "there's nothing to say about them really."

"Where did they come from?" she asked.

"I got them by accident. You remember being a teenager, right?" Tom forced a slight grin, "We're always messing around, bumping into things, falling down, goofing around with each other. I get bruises sometimes and don't even know myself where they came from. I'm just a clumsy guy."

"Well, bruises like those have to come with a memorable story. I hear they look rather painful," the counselor pressed.

Tom wondered what he should say. What kinds of accidents would result in bruises all over his abdomen? He was fairly sure no one knew about the ones on his arms, so he didn't have to explain those. Falling down the stairs would leave some pretty bad bruises, and he did have some on his back too, which would help with the imagery of tumbling down stairs, bumping up his entire body and not just his front. But abuse victims always blamed stairs and doors... He couldn't say something that was an obvious lie.

"You can tell me, Tommy," she reached over and put her hand lightly over his.

Without thinking, he immediately flinched back. Then he silently cursed himself for it. He didn't like to be touched. He realized flinching away from her probably just made him look more like a victim of abuse, but he hadn't thought about it in advance. It was just his reflexes at work.

"If someone at home is hurting you, we can do something about it. We can make sure they won't do it anymore. You won't have to go back there. There will be no reason for you to be afraid," she assured him.

Tom shook his head and laughed. He couldn't help himself. The counselor looked confused, but he continued laughing, "you guys have the wrong idea completely," he told her, "No one is abusing me. I wouldn't let them. Look at me. I'm the size of an adult... If someone hurt me, I wouldn't let them do it again. I'd hurt them back, or just leave. Remember what I did when the gym teacher messed with me? I'm not the kind of guy who's going to let someone beat him up and just sit there. And I certainly wouldn't keep going back for more."

She smiled sympathetically, "I know you feel like you're all grown up, and like you should know how to protect yourself and that you don't need anyone else, but you're really still so young and vulnerable, and that's not something to be ashamed of. Besides, everyone needs help sometimes, even adults. You could be thirty and might still need someone else's help."

"I know that," Tom felt like this woman thought he was an idiot, "but I don't need help. Maybe someday I'll need someone to help me with something. But not right now."

"Why would you need someone to help you someday?" she asked.

Tom leaned his head back. He wanted to scream. He wished he could just pull out his badge and end all this talking in circles, but he knew his investigation would be over, "I wasn't referring to anything in particular," he assured her, "I was confirming what you said, that everyone needs help sometimes and that I'm no different. But I was also telling you that right now, nothing is wrong. There is nothing going on with me that I need anyone's help with."

"So tell me where the bruises came from," she asked again.

He thought of something at that instant and just went with it, "My brother and I were just goofing around, okay? We get into fights, but never trying to hurt each other. We're just goofing around, and it gets out of hand sometimes. I beat him up sometimes too. We were just joking around."

"Are you telling me the truth, Tommy?" she looked so worried. Tom felt bad for getting this woman so involved in all this. She really did feel bad for him and really wanted to help him with his non-existent problem.

"Yeah," he nodded, hoping she'd finally buy it and this all would be put behind him.

"How old is your brother?" she asked.

"Eighteen," Tom replied.

"He just got transferred here today as well, didn't he?" she asked, "Wasn't his name Douglas?"

"Yeah," Tom answered, "Doug."

"Well, I'll talk with him and then make my judgment on whether or not to leave this alone. Tommy, please believe me when I say I'm not doing this to annoy you or make your life harder. I care so much about all the students at this school. I don't want to send you home every day to a parent or sibling who's hurting you."

"I know that," he smiled, "and I'm glad you're here to help people out. You have good intentions. I'm just not one of the kids who needs help. Keep doing what you're doing; just leave me out of it."

"I hope we won't need to talk again," she told him, "but remember I'm always here."

He nodded, "can I go then?"

"I want you to sit outside the office. I'll have the secretary at the main office page your brother, and if he confirms your story, I won't bother you again."

"Cool," he stood up and walked out. There were four chairs outside of the office. He sat in the one furthest from the door and leaned his head back against the wall. Being in high school the first time was annoying enough... This was just ridiculous.

**_xxxxxx_**

**_Between writing the previous chapter and this one, I watched the episode where Doug and Tom go undercover as the McQuaid brothers. I guess I have Tommy McQuaid kind of right... I only just got into this show and haven't made it through the first season yet... I own seasons 1 and 2 though, and will be buying 3 and 4 when I need to. ^_^ One day I'll have their characters completely down. (I don't think I'll watch season 5, but honestly, who would!)  
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_**I would very much appreciate more reviews, so keep 'em coming. :)**  
_

_**Doug Penhall will be in the next chapter, which is likely the last chapter. I haven't finished it yet, so I'm not completely certain if it will be the last or not...  
**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thank you for the reviews. :) I'm glad to see a bit of continued interest in this story. I love you guys for reviewing.**_

_**xxxxxx**_

"Damn, brother," Doug laughed as he walked up to Tom who had been staring at the floor outside the counselor's office, "I'd expect us to land in the office on our first day, but not the counselor's... What's all this about?

Tom stood up and walked up close to the other man, whispering so no one else could hear them, "I got in a fight with the gym teacher... I'll explain it all later, but he saw bruises from my last case and sent me to talk to the counselor about it. Just tell her you and I were goofing around and it happened my accident."

"You have bruises from your last case?" Doug frowned, looking his partner up and down, "I thought you said you were fine..."

Tom sighed, "yeah. It's no big deal. I am fine. Just get in there so we can get everyone over this. They think I'm being abused, and you know we need to sort all this out before it spirals out of control. If they start wanting to send social workers to our non-existent house, we're going to blow our cover."

"Okay," Doug looked uneasy, "how bad are the bruises?" he asked, "and where are they?" he looked Tom up and down again.

Sighing, Tom looked around to see if there was anyone else in the hall. There were a few people down further at a couple lockers and one guy at a water fountain in the other direction, but no one really close. Tom looked back up at Doug and frowned. He lifted his shirt, let Doug see the marks for about one second and then pulled the shirt back down.

"Jeeze!" Doug winced, reaching for the shirt and pulling it back up, "what the hell happened?"

"Shhhh!" Tom hissed, pulling his shirt back down, "you and I got into a fight... but not a serious one... Just goofing around. That's what happened... So get in there and tell her that," he pushed Penhall toward the door of the counselor's office.

Doug stumbled forward but turned back and looked at his partner. His facial expression looked like he just witnessed a puppy getting kicked.

Tom just shook his head. He hated it when people were worried about him, especially when there was no reason for them to be. He sincerely hoped Doug wouldn't bring this up again, but he knew that was too much to hope for.

xxxxxx

"Douglas McQuaid?" the counselor smiled as Penhall walked into the room.

"It's just Doug," he responded, "but you got the last name right."

"I'm sorry," she frowned, "Doug, then. Could you have a seat please?"

Doug shrugged, "I guess," he sat down in the chair and put his feet up on the desk, "what's this all about, lady? You making all the new students see the counselor or somethin?"

She shook her head, "no," she answered, "I'm just talking to you and your brother, just making sure of some things. Are you really close with Tommy?" she asked.

"Well, sure," Doug smiled, "he's like a brother to me... Well, he is a brother to me... We're brothers. So yeah, we're close. We're best friends and all that."

The counselor narrowed her eyes, "okay... So you really care about him?"

Doug raised his eyebrows, "yeah. More than anyone."

She nodded, "Good. Brothers should stand by one another. They should always be there to protect each other; wouldn't you agree?"

"Of course," Doug agreed, "are we writing a romance novel here? Get to the point."

"Well, the reason you're here is because some people in gym class noticed your brother has some pretty nasty bruises," she explained, "I was wondering if you knew where he got them."

Doug shrugged. Was he supposed to know Tom had bruises? He knew Tom told him to tell the counselor that the bruises were accidental, but was he supposed to be surprised that their goofing around had been more rough than he thought? If he just told her he was the one who caused the bruises, it would either look like they were both in on a lie to protect their abusive parents, or that Doug was the one who was abusive.

"Well," Doug started, "we kind of shove each other around sometimes," Penhall pulled up his sleeve where he knew he had a bruise from bumping his elbow into his dining room table at home, "see? We both have 'em. We're teenaged boys... What do you expect?"

She forced a smile for about half a second, "A little bruise is one thing... I didn't see Tommy's bruises, but from what I heard, he's covered in them. Now, I know if you're a good brother, you wouldn't do that to him. And I also know that a good brother wouldn't let anyone else hurt his little brother like that."

"You're right," Doug agreed, "I would never hurt him on purpose, and would definitely do whatever I could to make sure no one else did either. But any bruises he has really were just an accident. We were joking around and got a little too into it. That's all."

"Mr. Swanson said his stomach was just covered in dark bruises, Doug," she stared at him, "how do you do that by accident?"

"Well, look at me," he shrugged his shoulders, "I'm kind of a big guy, right? And Tommy, well, he's not scrawny or nothin, but he's no match for me, right?"

She didn't look amused.

"Are you sure the bruises were really that bad and that the teacher didn't just over-react?" Doug asked, "I bet half the kids at the school have some bruises just from being kids, you know?"

"I don't think Mr. Swanson would have sent him to me if it looked like nothing at all. You can ask to see them for yourself, but I'm going to assume that a whole class of students and a teacher wouldn't exaggerate that much," she frowned.

"Well, I guess I'll have him show them to me later, but I'm pretty positive it was probably just from us goofing around," Doug assured her.

"Are you sure?" the counselor asked, "I don't doubt that two teenaged brothers probably get into fights now and then and likely play rough with no intention of harming each other, but from what I hear, the bruises don't look like something that would happen by accident."

Doug could feel his brow furrowing. How could he convince her that Tom wasn't in any danger?

"How is the relationship between Tommy and your parents?" she asked, "Does he get in trouble a lot? Do they ever yell at him?"

"Well, no more than normal parents. Like I said before," he shrugged, "we're teenaged boys, so of course our parents aren't always just patting us on the head and praising us constantly. We stay out past curfew, skip school, break things around the house, lie, cheat, and steal... So the parents can get pretty worked up sometimes, but the most they do is raise their voices. Tommy and I are great kids; wouldn't you agree?"

She narrowed her eyes, unsure of the relevance of this latest question, "of course."

"And we were raised by the best," Penhall grinned, "our parents love us."

"Doug," she started, folding her hands on the table, "did he get into any fights at school? Anything that would explain why he's so beat up? I just have to be sure. You've got to understand this."

"I do understand. And we do sometimes get into fights at school. He doesn't always tell me about all of them, so that could explain it... But he and I sometimes really do get really into our little brawls," Doug continued, "and Tommy's the kind of guy who gets hurt and then keeps his mouth shut about it. That is, if I hurt him on accident, he wouldn't say anything. He'd just keep fighting harder, so then I'd fight harder, not even knowing. That's my best guess of what happened. I do remember we got pretty into it a couple days ago. We were actually rolling around on the ground before it was over. And I hit him, and I thought maybe it was too hard afterward, but he got back up and acted like it was nothin' so we just kept going."

The counselor narrowed her eyes. She seemed to be deciding whether or not to believe him, "will you at least try to be more careful? If you know the two of you aren't a fair match, you should try to ease up a little."

Doug sighed, "I will," he promised, "I just wish he'd tell me when he's hurt, you know? That's pretty frustrating. And I really have been goofing around with him lately, even today, not knowing that he had bruises at all," he was being honest at the moment. He really did wish Tom had told him that he was injured. Doug and Tommy McQuaid were pretty rough characters, and the two cops really did knock each other around to keep up their personas. He would have been more careful if he'd known.

"Maybe you should always be careful then, just in case," the counselor suggested.

"Yeah," Doug agreed, "I guess I'm gonna have to. I don't know my own strength."

"And one last thing, before you go," she added, "if either of you is having any sort of trouble at home, please don't be afraid to come and talk to me. I can tell you and your brother really do care a lot about each other. I know you wouldn't let anyone hurt him."

Doug looked at her. She didn't know that. In fact, she didn't know either him or Tom at all, but she was right. He supposed the counselor was just hoping she was right about him.

"You can get back to class now, and tell your brother to do the same," she told him.

Doug nodded as he stood up. Just before he exited, he looked back at the counselor, "thanks for looking out for him," he told her, "It's good to know there's someone out there checking in on the bad kids too."

"There are no such thing as bad kids, Doug," she told him, "some kids have better chances at life than others, but none of you are bad."

Penhall shrugged, "well, see ya around."

He walked back out into the hallway. Tom looked up at him and immediately stood. He stared up into Doug's eyes with a look of worry in his own, as if he was waiting for some kind of medical diagnosis.

"We're fine," Doug clapped him on the shoulder, "I'm gonna be more careful when we play together," he smirked.

Tom shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"So what did happen during your last case?" Penhall asked, "you told me you chased the guy into-"

"Shhh," Hanson interrupted, "we can talk about it after school."

"School's out for the day," Doug lied.

"No it isn't," Tom disagreed, "last period just started."

"Not for us," Doug told him, "come on. We're the McQuaid brothers. We can skip sometimes; remember?"

Hanson hesitated.

"Just this once?" Doug pouted, putting his arm around Tom's shoulders and starting to lead him toward the school's front entrance. Tom barely even twitched or made any effort to prevent Doug from leading him out of the school. Doug knew his partner was beyond finished with this day. Before Tom even said anything, Doug knew he had convinced him that, for them, school was out.

Sighing, Tom reluctantly agreed, "fine," his shoulders slumped, "but we're not skipping anything tomorrow. We've got a job to do."

Doug shrugged, "We'll worry about tomorrow when tomorrow comes, brother. For now, we're playing hooky."

**_xxxxxx_**

**_Should I do one last chapter with Doug and Tom just talking about this? I feel like I could stop it right here, or do just one last chapter... I really like Doug and Tom being brotherly with each other, so an extra chapter might be nice... But I also don't want to drag this out longer than I should... Let me know what you think via review._**

**_Gracias._**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading, and especially to those of you who have reviewed. I'm sure you all know (if you write stories too) that reviews can really be great motivators! I cranked this story out twice as fast as I would have if no one reviewed it. So thank you all! This story was for you. This is the last chapter, brought to you because a few reviewers seemed to be interested in the story having one last chapter, so here it is: ** _

_**xxxxxx**  
_

Tom sat quietly in the passenger side of Penhall's car. They had driven out of the school's parking lot so none of the teachers or students would question what they were up to, but they didn't want to report back to the chapel yet and have Fuller question why they had left school early either. So now they found themselves parked along the side of the road.

Penhall looked over at Hanson. Neither of them had spoken for a few uncomfortable minutes. Tom remained silent as his partner continued looking at him with a raised eyebrow, "So... it's after school now," Doug reminded him.

Tom shrugged, "so?" he looked down at his shoes.

"You said you'd explain all of this after school," Doug said, "and now here we are... After school..."

Sighing loudly, Tom turned toward Penhall, "what exactly do you want to know?"

"Well," Doug began, "everything I guess... What happened during your case that resulted in you having all those bruises; why you got into a fight with the P.E. teacher... You don't just get me called down to the counselor's office without some sort of explanation."

Tom frowned, looking up at Doug, "the P.E. teacher is an asshole," he explained.

"P.E. teachers tend to be like that," Doug agreed, "what exactly did he do?"

"Did you know he tries to force everyone to shower even if they don't want to?" Tom asked, "and then if they won't, he starts throwing accusations at them, trying to figure out why they won't do it?"

Doug frowned, "no... Everyone showered in my class. We had all been playing pretty hard and we were sweaty. No one tried to get out of showering."

"Well I did, and he wouldn't have it," Tom scowled.

"Why didn't you just shower in the first place?" Doug wondered.

"Because of the bruises," Tom sighed, "Someone would have seen them... You know how bad they look... All of the assumptions about abuse... That was exactly what I was _trying_ to avoid by not showering..."

"Ah," Doug nodded, finally understanding how the whole conflict arose. Then he frowned again, "but how did the teacher see the bruises? Did he try to rip your shirt off or somethin?" Doug laughed, but then frowned yet again, "he didn't actually physically try to _force you_ to shower, did he? Because he can't be doing that to his students. Teachers can't be undressing their students; it doesn't matter what subject they teach," Doug's tone had risen and Tom could tell he was getting quite angry, "you may not be a child anymore, but that's still wrong," Doug was nearly shouting and wasn't leaving Tom any room to explain what actually happened, "just because you're an adult doesn't mean you can't press charges for something like that. And if he did it to you, he'll probably do it to other kids, which is something we're going to have to make sure doesn't happen. After all, when you were down there in his class, he didn't see you as a twenty-two year old police officer. He saw you as his little seventeen year old student, and that's just creepy. Why's he so worried about everyone showering anyway? Maybe he's some kind of sick-o pervert."

"Calm down, Penhall," Hanson put his hand on his partner's arm, "It wasn't quite like that," Tom assured him.

"Well, what exactly happened then?" Doug crossed his arms over his chest in annoyance. Tom could tell that until he explained it, Penhall was going to assume the gym teacher was a sexual predator.

"I don't think it was about him being some kind of pedophile so much as it was about him showing everyone who's in charge. He must just like being in a position of power and doesn't like it when someone challenges his rules. It's not as bad as you seem to think, but it was still pretty inappropriate, I think. He wanted everyone to shower, and when I refused he didn't want the other kids seeing me breaking his rules and getting away with it, I guess... Trying to find out why I refused to shower, he would say something accusatory, like asking about me trying to hide the fact that I was cutting myself and then he'd pull up my sleeve... When that didn't pan out, he'd make another accusation. Then when it was all said and done he'd exposed my stomach and accused my father of hitting me... I just couldn't keep my cool anymore and I lunged at him. I know I shouldn't have, and that just made me look like the bad guy, but I didn't like him talking about my father like that. Some students said he was legitimately worried about my well-being and I didn't want to complicate things and ruin our investigation, so I'm just going to let it drop."

Now Penhall was the one who was silent.

"Anyway," Tom smiled and clapped Doug on the shoulder, "that's all in the past now. And I've been told that showering is no longer going to be a requirement in his class... At least not for me."

"So you're staying in his class?" Doug's eyebrows were knitted together with worry.

"He's probably going to try to avoid me from now on," Tom assured him, "he knows he was treading on thin ice. If he cares about his job, I think he'll leave me alone."

"Well, I hope so... If you need to, transfer out of his class," Penhall suggested, "it's not necessary for the investigation that you stay there, and just because you're not a real student doesn't mean you're not still dealing with real people. this guy could still do real damage."

"I know that," Tom told him, "I'll be fine."

"Well, if you need help from your big brother, just ask," Doug smiled.

"Will do," Tom smirked as well.

Doug was silent again. He looked like he wanted to say more but like he couldn't quite come out with it. He just looked at Tom with a glimmer of sympathy in his eyes.

"What?" Tom sighed, leaning his head back against the car's seat.

"Well..." Doug hesitated, "I don't mean to interrogate you or anything..."

"Then don't," Tom turned toward him.

"But you need to just explain one last thing," Doug frowned.

Tom narrowed his eyes. He knew what Doug wanted to know and he knew he'd need to explain it, even if it wasn't really any of Penhall's business, "you want to know how my last case went," he guessed, "how I ended up looking like someone beat the hell out of me?"

Penhall looked at him sympathetically, "you don't have to tell me all the details if you don't want," he offered, "I mean, it's pretty clear what happened. You look like someone beat the hell out of you because someone did."

"Genius," Tom smirked.

"Does Fuller know at least?" Penhall asked.

"Know what?" Tom scoffed.

"That you're injured," Doug frowned.

"Probably," Hanson responded, "but it's not really what I'd call 'injured.' It's just bruises."

"What do you mean, he 'probably' knows?" Doug wondered.

"Well, Hoffs was on that case with me, right?" Tom reminded him. Doug nodded, so Tom continued, "well, the deal was that the suspect ran off and we didn't know where exactly he went. There were two options of which way he could have gone, so Hoffs and I split up. I happened to be the one who found him, but he sorta found me first and managed to get a few punches... er- well, kicks... in before I could take him down. At any rate, Hoffs made me go to the hospital already, so Fuller probably got word of it. But I know I didn't tell him, because it's not a big deal. It's nothing he really needs to know."

"I don't know," Doug sighed, "it looked pretty painful to me. I don't know if he would have put you on a case if he'd known."

Tom rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation, "it's nothing!" he insisted, "Certainly nothing to keep me from working! A kid could have gotten the same injuries playing football at school, and then would show up to classes the next day and even the next football game," Tom hesitated, "...man! That's what I should have told the counselor... That I got the bruises playing football at my old school. It would have been much less suspicious!"

Doug let out a loud laugh, a laugh he didn't even try to suppress, "how would that have been less suspicious?" he smirked.

Tom frowned, "Yeah... I guess she could have looked through my records and found out I never played football."

Penhall was still laughing, "yeah," he agreed, "or maybe she could have looked through... I don't know... her _eyes_?" he added, looking Tom up and down.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hanson scowled.

"Well, no offense," Doug smiled, "but you just don't have the physique for football. Cheerleader, maybe."

Hanson rolled his eyes but didn't argue.

"Will you just tell me next time if something like this happens?" Doug added, regaining his serious demeanor.

"Like I said," Hanson exhaled loudly, "it's not a big deal. Just bruises. It's nothing anyone needs to know about. It's not like my ribs are broken. Hoffs made sure of that."

"But I'm sure it still hurts if... let's say... someone punched you in the ribs?" Doug raised his eyebrow, "like maybe, if you were undercover as Tommy McQuaid, and your partner who was undercover as Doug McQuaid was goofing around with you outside the school? Pushing you around, hitting you right in your ribs, not knowing that it was hurting you every time he did it."

Hanson frowned, "it wasn't that bad. If it was a big problem, I wouldn't have played along. I'd have just shoved you and walked away."

"But you did seem pretty annoyed when I first did it. I thought you were just mad that I caught you off-guard," Doug pouted, "I didn't know..."

"Like I said," Tom explained, "I'm fine. You didn't do any serious damage."

"Will you just tell me from now on?" Doug begged, "or do I have to actually ask you each individual time? Before we get into a brotherly scuffle, do I need to have you examined by a doctor from now on?"

Tom scowled at him.

"I just don't want to hurt you. You can understand where I'm coming from, right?" Doug's eyes looked like a sad puppy dog's once again. He was very good at making a sad face that could make anyone's heart break.

"Fine," Tom agreed, "but I'm only telling you if I think it's worth it. I'm not telling you about every little scratch."

"Fair enough," Doug smiled, "but I am going to be more careful if I can remember to," he added, "if you're still going to let me be rough with you even when you're already beat up, I'll just have to always go easy on you. Maybe actually let you win a fight for once."

"I could win a fight against you, no problem!" Tom nearly shouted.

Penhall shrugged, "I've never seen it happen."

"Well, no! I could!" Tom persisted, "I'll show you tomorrow."

"No you won't," Doug laughed, "maybe next week."

"Fine," Tom narrowed his eyes, "I'm sure we'll still be on this case in a week, so we'll have a good old-fashioned McQuaid brothers fight then. And no holding back."

Doug just raised his eyebrow and shook his head.

Tom knew his partner probably wouldn't ever dream of actually putting all of his efforts into such a fight, but he also knew that neither would he, himself. Any scuffle they had would be pretty light, especially now that Doug thought he was so fragile. Tom wasn't sure if he could win in a fair fight against Doug, but with his partner's self-appointed refusal to be too rough with him, he knew he'd win this one.

**_xxxxxx_**

**_Maybe this chapter is kind of scattered and whatnot, but just like real life, the lives of Tom and Doug aren't always organized and perfect... It's meant to be pretty much light-hearted, but not completely... This is the end for real. There's nothing left to say. I hope you liked it.  
_**


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